Chapter 4

Nicholas's POV

Each passing moment brought me closer to a life I hadn't chosen, a life mapped out by my parents' expectations and societal norms.i thought it was all a joke at first but now I don't think it is a joke anymore.

"Nicholas," my mother's voice broke through my turbulent thoughts, her smile strained with anticipation. "Everything is falling into place. Tomorrow will be a beautiful day for our family."

I summoned a smile, but it felt hollow and forced. "Yes, Mother," I replied mechanically, burying the turmoil that churned within.

Inside, a storm raged. Could I live with the consequences of betraying my own desires? 

Was there a way out of this gilded cage? Or was I condemned to follow a path laid out for me, regardless of my own wishes and dreams?

Tomorrow loomed ahead like an unavoidable specter, casting a shadow over any semblance of hope. Despite my efforts to cling to optimism, the weight of my decisions pressed down on me with suffocating certainty.

How will I cope getting married to someone that I don't love,if not because of the family's company that have been my desire since I was little I wouldn't even agree to all this arranged marriage and wait till I see someone that I love and get married to her. I have always wanted to get married to the woman I truly loved,even Emily my highschool friend have always begged me for us to get married but I have declined severally. I would even make my marriage a secret to her so it won't be like I betrayed her.

Mia's POV

Standing before my father, his stern gaze drilling into me, I felt as though I was drowning in the expectations he had meticulously woven around our family's honor. His words were like knives, slicing through the fragile hopes I held onto.

"Dad, please," I pleaded, tears cascading down my cheeks, "I can't marry him. I don't love him."

For a fleeting moment, his features softened, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. But just as quickly, his resolve hardened again like granite. "Mia, this isn't solely about you. It's about our family's reputation, our future. You must think beyond yourself."

His words cut deep. How could he not see that marrying someone I didn't love would suffocate me, bind me to a life of misery? The memories of past relationships, each ending in heartbreak and mistreatment, flooded my mind, intensifying my fear that I didn't know when I started crying.

"I can't," I whispered hoarsely, the weight of impending duty crushing my chest.

"One day, you'll realize," he murmured, turning away with a finality that left me breathless. "Tomorrow, it will all become clear."

But tomorrow stretched before me like an endless abyss, filled with uncertainty and despair.

"If you defy us," he warned as he walked away, his voice cutting through the silence like a dagger, "know that you'll be on your own. I mean it."

His threat reverberated in the hollow of my chest. I had never seen him so resolute, so unyielding. His ultimatum hung in the air like an invisible chain, binding me to a fate I couldn't accept.

As the weight of his words settled in, a profound sense of loneliness enveloped me. The realization that my own parents, supposed guardians of my happiness, were willing to sacrifice it for the sake of tradition was a bitter pill to swallow.

"It's fine," I muttered to myself, my voice trembling with resignation and a simmering anger. "If you and Mum won't stand up for my happiness, then I'll submit to this marriage as you wish." I said crying bitterly.

*******

The day of the wedding arrived with a suffocating weight of inevitability. Anxiety gnawed at my insides, keeping me awake through the night. The prospect of marrying into a life of obligation and duty, devoid of love, loomed over me like a dark cloud.

Morning came abruptly with a knock on my door, shattering the fragile tranquility I had managed to cling to. My mother entered with an air of forced cheerfulness, flanked by two women carrying bags filled with wedding attire. Others followed, bringing in more loads, turning my room into a chaotic scene of preparation.

"Why haven't you bathed yet?" my mother asked, her question punctuated by a note of irritation that I chose to ignore.

I feigned absorption in my phone, pretending not to hear her, unwilling to engage in the charade of enthusiasm for a marriage I dreaded.

Ignoring my reluctance, my mother continued, "Hurry up. We can't afford to be late for the church. These are your makeup artists," she gestured towards the women beside her, "make sure you're ready quickly."

Before she could finish, Charlotte burst into the room, her presence a brief respite from the whirlwind of preparations. I sprang from the bed, relief flooding me as I rushed to embrace her.

"Charlotte, I'm really getting married," I sobbed, clinging to her as if she were my last lifeline.

"I know," she replied softly, her voice tinged with resignation, "but please, for the sake of your parents, get ready."

Her words cut deep, a bitter reminder that even my closest friend couldn't fully understand the turmoil consuming me.

Alone in the bathroom, tears streamed down my face as I bathed, each drop marking the passage of time towards a future I didn't choose. The water provided little solace, its rhythmic flow matching the steady cadence of my fears.

"So I'll be married to someone in just a few hours," I murmured to myself, the words a bleak acknowledgment of my fate.

A knock on the bathroom door startled me back to the present, jolting me from my melancholy reverie. Hours had slipped away unnoticed in the confines of my despair.

The makeup artists worked diligently, their brushes transforming my face into a mask of bridal perfection against my will. Charlotte, ever supportive, helped me into the wedding gown, her touch a fleeting comfort in the midst of chaos.

Arriving at the church, I scanned the gathered guests, my heart plummeting when I saw him standing at the altar. Nicholas Hernandez, the name sent a shiver down my spine, a ghost from my past suddenly brought to life.

"What?" I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as the reality sank in. It was him, the same Nicholas who had tormented me in high school, now destined to be my husband.

Fear gripped me, threatening to overwhelm me as I struggled to comprehend the cruel twist of fate that awaited me at the end of the aisle.

To be continued...